Night Out
by malaga
Summary: Gibbs and Tony have a new case, where they have to go undercover, in a role people thought would be a lot harder than it is. Tibbs, slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my computer.**

An unusual quartet sat in a small restaurant, talking over drinks.

The first man looked ex-military. His stiff bearing and reflexive scanning of the room as new patrons entered showed that despite his grey hair, this man was dangerous.

The next man however, seemed to be ignoring the warning. His manner was of a lazy cat, absolutely comfortable draped over his chair, and over the older man's shoulder slightly. His model good looks and perfectly tailored suit attracted some very positive attention, but the glares of the first man told everyone not to try to get anywhere.

The third man seemed to belong more in a classroom at Harvard, or a Sherlock Holmes novel. His tweed suit was stretched slightly over a comfortable middle, and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he recounted an old story to the fourth, and possibly strangest member of their party.

The last was a girl in her mid-twenties, wearing a black lacy dress with chuck tailors, and showing off her tattoos. She was laughing at the third man's story, with a glee that made her dark makeup and hair seem incongruous.

Despite their many differences, the four chatted with a comfort only seen in very old friends.

"And then the man found his sandwich in the refrigerator the next day!" The rotund man recounted, and all three of the others laughed.

"Well, we have work tomorrow," the man said regretfully, looking at his watch, "and you, Abigail, have to go to your bowling."

The girl pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch. "Oh! The nuns will be waiting." She pulled out her bag after this odd statement, leaning over to give each man a peck on the cheek. "Bye Ducky, great story. Seeya Jet, Tony. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

With a wink, and a waggle of her finger she left, leaving the younger man blushing at the mock warning.

"I'll see you two tomorrow also. Bed time for this old man." Ducky got up slowly, leaving his money plus a tip on the table. He smiled at a waitress as he walked by, and she grinned back at the pleasant old gentleman.

"Come on Tony." Jethro stood up, running a hand through his greying hair.

His lover stretched languorously before getting up too, grabbing the older man's hand as they left. He snuggled up close as they pushed through the large wooden doors, and the chilly night air hit them.

They walked to their car, carefully finding their footing over the slippery concrete, still wet from the rain that had been pouring down just a few hours ago. Jethro pulled out his keys, smiling at Tony as he flipped through them, searching for the one to unlock his car.

"Fucking fags." A drunken voice slurred from the other side of the car park.

Tony turned to face the voice, intent on giving the speaker a piece of his mind, but a firm hand on his bicep warned him to stop.

"Tony. He's not worth it."

Tony nodded reluctantly, giving his lover a light peck before hopping in the car.

As they drove away, Jethro thought he heard the man spewing more disgusting words in their general direction. He backed into a puddle, spraying the man with water, before leaving the parking area.

"Oops." He said unrepentantly as Tony gave him a questioning look. "Didn't see that there."

Tony laughed slightly, recognising that Jethro had done it for his sake.

"Thanks." He offered, and Jethro didn't bother to pretend he didn't know what Tony was talking about, instead stroking the dark man's cheek.

"Any time."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my computer.**

"Morning Tony! Boss." McGee wandered into the main office of NCIS, also known as the bullpen by those who worked there, nodding at his co-workers.

There was a fourth member of the team, but she wasn't expected until exactly eight, which was when her bus arrived. Apparently, she still wasn't allowed to drive in America, and with the amount of accidents and the speed she drove at, no one was exactly surprised.

Traditionally, Gibbs and Tony were the first ones in in the morning, and the last ones out at night, frequently working sixteen-hour days. Frankly, McGee wasn't sure how they managed it. Sure, he pulled all nighters when the case demanded it, but he couldn't function on less than eight hours of sleep normally. Tony seemed to survive on catnaps, and Gibbs drank so much caffeine, McGee doubted he slept at all.

Even when they'd been up three days straight, those two looked fresh as daisies, while McGee and Ziva were baggy eyed and snoozing in interrogation rooms. One of those skills McGee hoped he would pick up really soon.

His thoughts were sidetracked by the arrival of Ziva, the last member of their team.

"Hey Tony, McGee, Gibbs."

"Ziva, you run from the bus stop?" Tony asked, looking at his watch.

"No," she said, a little smugly, "I got a car."

Tony and McGee froze.

"Legally?" Tony asked, slightly uncertainly.

"Yes. Totally on board."

"Above board Ziva, above board."

"Yes, that." Ziva sounded impatient, as she usually did when faced with colloquialisms. "Anyway, I can now drive us to crime scenes."

Tony choked slightly, and McGee took over.

"It's not that that's a bad idea, Ziva, but the vans usually have sensitive equipment in them. Maybe you should get more practice in first…" McGee sounded as though he expected to be killed for suggesting it. Knowing Ziva, he might be.

"How will I get practice if I can't drive?"

"You're right Ziva." Tony became her unexpected ally. "You should drive the van, with McGee, and I'll go in with the Boss."

"You'll _what_, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice cut in, impatient tones demanding an explanation.

"I'll… go in with you? Boss?" DiNozzo's voice sounded uncertain.

"Fine. But stop chitchatting. Petty Officer Dylan Myers, found beaten to death in an alley outside Scorpio."

"Think it's a homophobic crime?" As DiNozzo asked, McGee and Ziva turned a surprised gaze on the man.

"What makes you think he's gay, Tony?" McGee asked.

"He was found outside Scorpio. It's a new gay-club in the city."

"Wait a minute…" Ziva had a thoughtful look on her face as she interrupted, "How do you know about a gay club?"

Tony waved his hand dismissively in her direction. "I know the guy who owns it, so I've been a couple of times."

"Would have thought you were a little wary of gay-clubs after Voss." McGee slipped in, smiling impishly.

"McGee! You're on the victim. Daviid, find out how contaminated our crime scene is. DiNozzo, find out more about the club, since you're the expert here." Gibbs barked, grabbing his coffee and leaving, confident in the expectation that they would follow orders.

Ziva and McGee raced for their computers, Tony loping after, and he picked up his phone to dial a number.

"Hey, Sebastian. How's business?"

There was a brief pause before he continued. "You know the guy who was beaten up outside your place lately… Yeah, that is a stupid question… He one was in the Navy… Wait. What?"

He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he typed something into the computer.

"Thanks Seb… Yeah… Yeah… Tell your Nonna I say hello…"

He laughed, and put down the phone.

"Gibbs will want to see this."

"See what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs seemingly materialised behind Tony, enjoying the muffled squeak of fright the younger man gave.

"Jesus Boss, don't do that!"

"What did you find out?" Gibbs ignored his complaint, focusing on the work.

"Our Petty Officer was the second victim. The first was beaten up, but spoke to the police. In his statement he claims his attackers were three large men in dark clothes."

Gibbs appeared to be waiting. "And?"

"That's it. He died in surgery straight afterward, the police were lucky to get as much as they did. No one at the club has seen anyone fitting the description."

"The crime scene was completely gone over by the local PD before they realised it was ours. All evidence is down with Abby."

Gibbs turned to McGee expectantly. "What have you got?"

"Myers was on shore leave, according to his commanding officer, he's well liked, and his record doesn't show anything incongruous. His family say he hasn't even had any messy break ups or had any enemies. His being gay seems the only reason he could be a target."

"Good. Any surveillance cameras?"

"Yes, boss. And a bouncer, but they didn't spot anything, and it was out of the camera's view. These guys know what they're doing. No trace, no evidence. Just a couple of dead guys."

Gibbs rubbed his forehead in frustration. This case seemed much closer to home than usual, what with that prick having made that comment to them the night before. Tony had even taken him and Abby to Scorpio one night, when Ducky was working.

That was the problem right there. It could have been him. It could have been Tony, or both of them.

"No trace, no living witnesses. That means, unless we catch them in the act, or get a confession, these bastards will walk." Gibbs growled, looking at Tony. "We need to get some men in Scorpio."

"Sure thing, Boss."

McGee looked at Tony. "Do you mean us? Because I wouldn't be able to act gay!"

"Just be yourself, McGee." Tony joked. "And of course he doesn't mean you. I'm so far out of your league it isn't funny. Seriously, they're homophobic, not stupid. No way would I go out with you."

"Well, I wouldn't go out with you either. Maybe you should take McPherson, he's about as attractive as you."

Tony winced. The man McGee referred to had a lazy eye and a receding hairline. "Very funny McGee. You think of going to Broadway? You could star in a musical, I hear Elf Lords are big there."

"McGee! DiNozzo!" They snapped to attention, stopping their bickering immediately. "McGee, you and Ziva set up the surveillance van. DiNozzo, grab Abby and meet me at the car."

"Yes Boss." The pair chorused, hurrying off to do their jobs, leaving Ziva standing next to Gibbs.

"Why is Abby going?"

Gibbs grimaced. "Well, I don't know what to wear in a gay club."

With that comment he left, leaving behind a gaping Ziva staring at his back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. There will either be one or two chapters after this, and then I'm done. Longest actually plot filled fic I've ever written. Go me!**

"Timothy! I'm afraid I can't add anything to the autopsy report, except our Petty Officer died at approximately the same time as the first victim reported the attack as occurring, both between 2300 and 2330 hours."

"Alright Ducky. Just thought I'd ask…" McGee looked uncertain for a moment, biting his lip before adding, "Do you think I could ever be a field man?"

Ducky looked genuinely shocked. "Of course you could. Dare I ask, why the sudden shake in confidence?"

"It's nothing." McGee shook his head and walked toward the door, abruptly turning back, "Well, actually, it's just, Gibbs would rather go undercover as a gay man than trust me in the field with Tony. He never goes undercover, unless he absolutely has to, and this just feels… Forget it."

"Timothy, stop. Do you want to know why you get surveillance duty rather than undercover work? Look at the team. Anthony is brilliant undercover, plus he knows the area. He's the logical choice. So, either you or Jethro had to stay in the van with Ziva, and one of you had to go to the club. Do you really think Jethro and Ziva could work the equipment necessary?"

McGee's expression cleared slightly. "You really think that's it?"

"Of course." Ducky answered comfortingly, conveniently omitting the other reason he could see. Jethro didn't want anyone other than him putting their hands on Tony, not even his completely straight co-worker.

He patted McGee on the shoulder, smiling as the man finally looked less unhappy. "Sorry I came in here and unloaded on you, Ducky."

"Don't distress yourself, Timothy. What else are friends for?"

The younger man smiled and left, waving at the doctor as he went.

This meant that he wasn't looking where he was walking, and, as luck would have it, neither was the very unamused looking Gibbs.

McGee eeped as he realised who he'd ran into, frantically patting down his boss before the man growled and pushed him away.

"Don't you have work to do?" Gibbs rumbled menacingly, smirking as he watched McGee nod and almost run away. His relationship with Tony had meant a far less irritable Gibbs, but it was nice to know he still had it when he tried.

"My goodness Jethro, what's wrong with you?" Ducky exclaimed, and Gibbs remembered the source of his ill humour.

"This." His voice was almost shouting, and Ducky winced slightly as Jethro brandished a pair of leather pants in the doctor's face.

"Honestly Jethro, they can't be that bad. Why did you get them if you hate them so much?"

Gibbs' voice dropped to the sullen tones of a sulky two year old as he replied, "I got sick of waiting, told them to pick whatever they wanted."

"Then I can't really sympathise Jethro, you should have known better than to let Abigail choose what she liked."

"I thought Tony would stop her from getting anything too…" He waved a hand in the direction of the offending pants, unable to even articulate what he thought.

"Let me get this straight, you thought young Anthony would _stop_ Abigail from putting you in leather?"

Gibbs nodded, looking well aware of how idiotic the idea had been.

"And you've come down here to sulk, thinking I would feel sorry for you."

Gibbs nodded again.

"You may stay if you so desire, but you'll have to put on Haz-mat gear, I have an inexplicable death that might be contagious."

"No, I'll just go make sure everything's going well in preparation for tonight. Bye Ducky."

"Jethro…" The silver haired man stopped and stared back at Ducky, who was struggling into his suit. "Be careful tonight."

"I always am Ducky. Always am."

He walked out, without talking any further to his friend. He snuck up on Tony, just to witness that slightly annoyed, slightly scared, and slightly turned on face he made when he worked out that Gibbs had stood behind him without his knowledge.

After snapping at the three of them, Gibbs realised exactly how bored he was. All his reports were up to date for once, he couldn't really help with the technical mumbo-jumbo, and Abby was working some other case.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes Boss?" The Italian man looked up as Gibbs beckoned imperiously.

"I need a work out. Ziva, you want to adjudicate?" Ziva looked over her empty desk before shrugging and following them to the gym's boxing area. McGee was left alone to finish the set up, and, unofficially, to gather the bets from the other agents. He didn't think Gibbs knew about it, but he was fairly certain Tony had an idea. Even the Madam Director had joined in a couple of times, on the sly.

DiNozzo was fast, young, and flexible. He also stole a fair few moves from crappy movies, most of which meant he ended up on his ass in practices, but the few that worked, really worked.

Gibbs was older, but had more practice, and had so many dirty tricks up his sleeve the average agent was surprised he could fit his arm in there. There was also the Gibbs factor, which meant he didn't like to lose, ever, and if he had to run five miles a day? No problem.

In short, they were the two best. No one else would fight them, and they were so evenly matched, the betting was always fast and furious.

So, it was no surprise when they came back two hours later, looking exhausted. The smug smirk on Gibbs' face told the room who'd won, and everyone went to the break room to either collect their winnings, or gripe about DiNozzo's showing.

Only Ducky and Abby knew exactly how much enjoyment the pair got out of testing themselves, except for possibly Ziva, who was the one usually chosen as umpire, under the not unreasonable assumption that she wouldn't stop anything that wasn't actually fatal.

Once, when she had been on vacation, a man who was at the gym already was chosen at random. They never did that again, not after having 911 called because two men were trying to kill each other.

The rest of the afternoon was spent looking over cold cases.

Everyone hated looking over the old cases with a fresh eye, hoping that this time, maybe something might pop out, leading them to the murderer, but knowing inside that the likelihood was low.

Unfortunately, it was necessary, and occasionally, paid off.

Gibbs repressed a sigh as he looked over a case that had been dead for two years. Surreptitiously glancing at his watch, he noted with satisfaction that it was time to go get into their gear, and report to Jen.

Despite having worked under cover with Gibbs before, and being involved a little more, he got the feeling the Director of NCIS, Jen Sheppard, didn't think he could handle playing the role of a gay man who was involved with DiNozzo.

He suppressed a smirk, imagining the look on her face if she ever realised it wasn't a role.

"McGee, Ziva! What wires are we going to have tonight?"

Despite the Israeli woman's frequent claims that she wasn't scared of him, she hung back, looking slightly intimidated and leaving McGee to reply.

"Just mikes, Boss. No cameras necessary, the sting'll happen in our sight."

"Alright, get organised. DiNozzo, we need to go get ready, you two make sure everything is ready to roll."

Choruses of 'Yes Boss' were heard from around the room, and Gibbs smiled grimly with the satisfaction that comes from knowing a job is going properly.

As he and Tony got in the elevator, Gibbs allowed his hand to rest on the younger man's back for a moment longer than propriety would demand. Propriety be damned though, it was always hard to keep from touching his young lover at work. Head slaps and fights only did so much.

Once in the changing rooms, Gibbs struggled into his pants, still looking at the leather material with a wary disgust that Tony struggled, and failed, to hide his amusement at.

Once he saw what Tony was wearing though, he had no more complaints about their disguises, drawing in the sight of the sexy man in his tight forest green shirt and faded jeans with the appreciation they definitely deserved.

Tony was, if possible, even more enamoured at the sight of Gibbs in black leather and a loose silk shirt, the midnight blue open to reveal a silver ring on a chain, matching the one Tony kept on his fingers at all times.

"Don't see why I had to wear the leather." Gibbs still sulked, though more out of habit than anything.

"Because otherwise everyone in the club would see me in leather, and I believe last time I wore pants like that, you told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't allowed to wear them outside our bedroom…"

Gibbs smirked slightly, acknowledging the truth, and remembering his reaction to Tony in leather.

"We better go report to Madam Director." Tony noted Gibbs' change of subject, and he smiled slightly, realising that victory went to him this bout.

As they walked through the bullpen, the whole agency stopped to gape. Sure, it was common knowledge that Gibbs was pretty good looking, and Tony was definitely the most attractive man there, but the sight of the pair dressed up to go out was certainly going to fuel more than a few fantasies.

"Hey Boss? Bet you get asked out by a couple of the office staff. At least three."

Gibbs snickered. "No way. They're all terrified of me. You'll get at least eight though."

"Well, I'm sure we can find something to bet with." The wink Tony shot him made it very clear what he was referring to, and Gibbs had to concentrate for a moment to keep the leather pants from revealing anything.

Although, with the look Tony was giving the pants as he walked up the stairs behind him, maybe leather wasn't so bad.

In fact, he might keep these pants, even if Tony and Abs would never shut up about it.

After all, Gibbs was sure he could find _somewhere_ appropriate to wear them.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my computer.**

"You may go in now, Agent Gibbs, Tony." As the secretary said his name, she gave a flirtatious smile, making it clear she approved of the changes to his outfits.

"Thanks Marie." Tony smiled politely as he walked in, and the secretary winked at him, ignoring Gibbs' scowl.

Gibbs stood to one side of the two chairs that were placed strategically in front of the Madam Director's desk. He noted absently that their seats were lower than hers and smiled fondly. At least she'd remembered a few of the things that he'd taught her.

Tony took a seat in front of Gibbs, relaxing and managing to look as though sprawling in front of his Boss's boss half naked was something he did every day. Gibbs growled slightly at the very idea; he was the only person Tony ought to be sprawling like that in front of.

The Director was standing with her back to them, looking out the window. Very intimidating, Gibbs judged mentally, and at just the right angle to see them in the reflection of the glass. Good girl, Jenny.

Tony knew Gibbs used to be in a relationship with the Director. He also knew the Director wouldn't mind restarting it, so it was understandable that he was slightly annoyed about allowing her the privilege of seeing Gibbs in his leather pants.

Jenny watched Gibbs closely in the reflection of the slightly tinted window. She took a moment to appreciate Agent DiNozzo too, before returning to her former partner's figure. Surprisingly little had changed there in the last ten years, although when you considered who it was, maybe not so surprisingly.

In short, the atmosphere inside the Director's office was slightly tense.

"Jethro, are you sure that you'll be able…" Jenny froze, staring at the pair of men before her, specifically Jethro's attire.

"Abs and DiNozzo got me all dressed up, I have been clubbing before, and I'll be fine."

"Yes, but have you been to a gay bar before?"

Tony almost made a comment about her only being worried about Gibbs, but decided for once to keep his mouth shut.

"Yes." Gibbs' simple answer took the wind out of the Director's sails.

"On purpose?"

"Yes. Come on DiNozzo, we have to leave." He hauled the younger man up, nodding to the Madam Director as he left. She leaned against her enormous window, still looking bemused.

"A gay bar? Really?"

"Right, wires are on. Can you move okay? Nothing visible?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Look McGeek, it's some homophobic losers, not some gang organisation. Aren't you being just a little too paranoid?"

"This coming from the man who wished we sent video surveillance with his team so he could impress a hot secretary with his 'mad fighting skills'." McGee snorted.

"Ah, Emma." Tony sighed fondly. "Her of the enormous chest. Turned out I didn't need the video, but it was a good idea."

"Honestly Tony! You two are so immature. Act your age, not your coat size." The only female occupant of the van spoke up indignantly, causing the men to look puzzled.

"Your shoe size, Ziva."

"Seven and a half. Why?"

"No, it's 'Act your age, not your shoe size'. Actually, never mind." Tony rubbed his forehead; ignoring Gibbs' smirk at the frustrated headache Ziva's mangling of English always gave Tony.

"DiNozzo! Let's go." Gibbs hauled open the van door, glaring when Tony didn't move quickly enough for his tastes.

They got out in a parking lot, virtually abandoned save for a rusty white car sitting in one corner. The front of the club was clearly visible, as was the alleyway the body had been discovered in, and Gibbs grudgingly admitted to himself that McGee and Ziva picked a good spot.

They walked down to the entrance of Scorpio, Tony smiling and waving to the bouncer who let them in, and used Tony's name when he greeted the pair. Despite the distance between the bar and the van, Tony could swear he heard the others sniggering at the idea he was known here.

Inside, Gibbs blinked a couple of times, unused to the flashing red lights and noises as what seemed like the city's entire population ground together on the dance floor or stood around, attempting to chat casually despite the sound level.

"What do you want to drink?"

Tony looked at him, not hearing anything, but seeing his lips move. He mimed drinking and Tony laughed.

"Get me something fruity!"

He nodded, smiling slightly. Everyone at work was going to give Tony hell for this anyway, might as well do it properly. If Gibbs had been anyone else, they might have given him hell too, but they wouldn't dare.

He grinned wolfishly, and once he'd fought his way to the front and got the bartender's attention ordered two, very fruity, Cinderella mocktails.

When he brought them back to the couch Tony had managed to commandeer, he pushed the glass in front of the other man, watching his eyes widen as he looked at the pink concoctions in front of them. Gibbs took a sip of his, noting absently that it actually was rather good, if you ignored the umbrella and bits of fruit. And the pinkness.

He imagined the looks he would get if he ordered this with anyone else, explaining the idea to Tony and watching the younger man snicker.

"Hey Boss!"

Gibbs looked up from the black leather he was sitting on, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

"Wanna dance?!"

He shrugged lightly, allowing himself to be pulled up, and following the denim clad behind through the throng.

"No way!" McGee stared at the speaker as though it would bite him. "Tony did not just ask Gibbs to dance."

"Perhaps he asked someone else?" Ziva suggested, looking nearly as disturbed as McGee.

"No, he said Boss, and there's no way Gibbs would let him off on his on during a case." McGee was about to elaborate further when Ziva clutched his arm, in a way he could feel was going to bruise.

"McGee!" He looked in the direction she indicated.

Three tall men in black, lurking in the alleyway they had found the body.

McGee pressed down on the button that allowed them to talk to the men in the club.

"Gibbs! Tony! Think we found our perps!"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my computer.**

"_Gibbs! Tony! Think we found our perps!"_

McGee's voice crackled through Gibbs and Tony's earpieces, and they nodded to each other and started bulling their way through the crowd.

Tony offered quick apologetic looks to anyone he bumped; Gibbs didn't even bother with that, racing toward the entrance before anyone could leave. If anyone else went past that alley before they could get there, McGee and Ziva would probably be close enough to stop any real damage from occurring, but the trio might escape, and that was something no one wanted.

As the floor got less crowded toward the edges, they moved faster, dodging tables and patrons in tandem, until the cool air touched their faces and the friendly bouncer gave Tony a smile and a nod.

"Too stuffy?" He asked innocently, and Tony smiled and waved, managing to make that into whatever answer the man wanted to take. They slowed down, wandering past the alley's entrance all unaware and innocent, lambs to the slaughter.

They lingered, taking their time. Tony leaned slightly on Gibbs and they both grinned the happy grin of the slightly intoxicated. The darkness beyond called for them to gaze, was their bait enticing? Were the men coming closer? Was that slight shift and rustle the noise of a man rubbing slightly against the brick wall as he waited?

Gibbs could spot the three distinct dark shadows of men in black and he scowled, wondering where the hell the other two were. It wasn't like he and Tony couldn't take them down, but it was nice to have the numbers firmly on your side for once.

Tony and Gibbs realised at the same time that their bait wasn't being taken. Apparently the pair looked too strong, too much for the waiting trio. They exchanged a glance, realising what they had to do. Gibbs pushed Tony against the sharp edged bricks, kissing him enthusiastically, but listening for the tell tale steps behind him. There was a slight glow where they stood, the overflow from a street lamp, and it served to illuminate the pair without destroying their night vision.

There. The quiet crunch of a boot from close behind and Gibbs whirled around, breaking his and Tony's embrace. Tony flew off in another direction and their guns were pulled out in unison.

"Freeze! NCIS!" Gibbs shouted, and two of the figures seemed to take this as their cue to fight. The third ran, jumping over a fallen trash bag and out into the night. McGee and Ziva spotted the figure leaving the alley from their van and gave chase, leaving Tony and Gibbs to fend off the others.

Tony's fist flew through the air, knocking the black clad man on the cheek and he stumbled, recovering quickly and dodging the next blow. His foot shot out, aimed at Tony's kneecaps and causing him to jump back to avoid it. Tony moved around him, keeping a wary eye on the man who was still striking out at Tony with determination and power, but not too much skill. Tony darted in and kneed the man in the groin, watching in satisfaction as he crumpled over, moaning loudly. Tony pulled his arms back from their protective cup over himself and cuffed him roughly.

Only then did he take the time to glance over at his lover, who was having a little more trouble with his man. His lip was swollen and bleeding from one corner, but as Tony watched Gibbs shot out a swift uppercut, knocking the man over and cuffed him too.

Tony shot Gibbs a grin, and let him do the honour of reading the men their rights as they dragged them back to a waiting car. McGee and Ziva were already back, a sullen man slumped between them voraciously protesting his innocence.

The team loaded the men into the car, Gibbs giving the grim little smile he always gave after catching someone, whether it was Tony playing a video game during work or a running suspect.

"Right," Tony yawned, stretching his arms above his head and exposing a thin trail of hair in the gap peeking between his shirt and jeans. "Much as I know you love staring at my fabulous sinewy body Ziva, I want to get changed, so adios."

McGee looked slightly smug. "I know that one. Blackadder!"

"Yeah probie, Blackadder." Tony rolled his eyes, and headed for Gibbs' black sedan.

Gibbs frowned. "DiNozzo!"

"Yes Boss?" He turned, still walking only now going backward towards the car.

"Catch." He chucked the keys and Tony's head and followed, leaving McGee and Ziva to bring the van back to NCIS head quarters. McGee looked at the van and gulped, envisioning Ziva driving them back.

He hopped in nonetheless, with an expression like someone about to get on a roller coaster they know is broken. He belted himself in securely, checking it twice.

Ziva laughed at his concerns, turning the key in the ignition and leaving their parking spot with a squeal of tires. McGee clung to the door handle, wincing as Ziva narrowly missed several parked cars and a street lamp.

"_You know, we never got to dance."_

"_We aren't going back to that club, I'm telling you now."_

McGee turned to the back of the van in puzzlement. "Damn, we forgot to turn off the microphones…" He eeped as Ziva turned to look, slaloming wildly across the road in the process.

"Come on, they aren't expecting us back at the lab for a while…"

"_And you can't think of anything batter than dancing to do?"_

"_You have a point."_

"_Yes Tony. In fact, my idea of better things to do involved that point."_

McGee and Ziva choked, Ziva hitting the brakes and sending McGee flying forward.

"_Well, that does sound better than dancing."_

"_Told you."_

"Turn it off!" Ziva yelled, McGee fumbling to undo his seatbelt and hurrying to turn off the speakers.

They drove back to NCIS in silence, each preferring not to discuss in any way, shape or form the dialogue they'd just been privy to.

Director Sheppard was waiting by Tony's desk, as possibly the only thing that could make this day any worse for the unlucky agents.

"Where are the others?"

McGee and Ziva looked away, desperately avoiding catching each others or the Director's eyes.

"They wanted to get changed." McGee started.

"Have a shower." Added Ziva.

"Go to be…" McGee stopped, unable to finish that sentence.

"No hitches?" The agents shook their heads, unable to trust their treacherous voices. "Alright. You may all have tomorrow off. Tell Jethro and DiNozzo."

"I'll call Gibbs." Ziva volunteered, and the Director turned to McGee.

"You'll tell DiNozzo then." McGee just nodded, as he wasn't able to think of a way to say the if Gibbs knew, Tony would too.

As the Director walked away, heels clacking sharply on the floor, McGee turned to Ziva.

"What do you think of… that?" He said, hands moving in swirly patterns and apparently supposed to show what 'that' was.

"Gibbs and Tony you mean?" McGee nodded, and Ziva's gaze turned contemplative. "I think it would be incredibly arousing."

There was a thud, and Ziva bent down to see that this last revelation had been one too many, as McGee had fainted.


End file.
